To Start Again
by Yumir
Summary: After losing his family, noble status and happiness, Ciel is left to wander the streets. Encountering an unexpected murder, Ciel is pulled into the "Underworld" that continues in the "silent" nights of London. Meeting people who had the power to help or kill him, Ciel tries to escape from danger, unknown to him that he is walking straight into a certain Red-Eyed Demon's trap.


To Start Again  
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji.  
Notices: This is purely for entertainment . Told in 1st person (Ciel). Reviews are appreciated. Enjoy and Thank you.  
This is set in more modern times. OOC.  
~ Pii

Chapter 1. Encounter.  
_One...Two...Three...Four... the rain starts to accumulate more and more. Five...Six...Seven...Eight... my small and fragile shoulders begin to shake..._

I hugged my knees closer to my small body trying to keep warm from the freezing rain that pounded vigorously on the pavement. Droplets bounced off the ground, separating into a million pieces. The rain looked like diamonds... beautiful... precious...and wanted. Just like how I _used_ to be, before everything was taken away from me. My own tears rolled down my face as a small smile graced my lips, and I silently thanked the rain for helping me disguise my weakness. I put my head in my arms, waiting patiently for the rain to stop and for the sun to arise.

When I lifted my head I felt no more rain falling from the sky, just the cold and wet feeling of the water that stained my clothing as it touched my cool, chilled skin. The alleyway where I have taken refuge in since that ungrateful day was dark, pitch black, as if darkness itself engulfed every corner of the narrow space. Leaning back, I examined my clothing: my jeans were worn with holes that began at the knees, black knee-high boots covered the majority of my legs, and I had forced myself to squint in order to shoot a clear gaze at the little black flowers that decorated the rim of my boots as they connected with my knees. I sighed, "That's right... these were women shoes... I was lucky enough to find them in the dumpster. At least they're warm". I had a dark blue sweater along with a black jacket. Looking at my hands, I found them snugly tucked into a pair red mittens that was handmade by my mother for my 16th birthday, the day when the accident happened.

The pounding of feet could be heard from the opening of the alleyway. The one in front sounded scared, its steps reckless and uneven... he was obviously the prey in this hunt. The one behind it sounded more skillful, light, quiet steps; it was as if he was toying with his prey, not using his full ability to end the chase. Falsely giving the prey hope that it can escape, '_how sadistic and cruel'_ I thought. The figures turned the corner where they came into my sight. An old, fat man tripped over his own feet, falling face first into the pavement. The large man quickly spun around to face his predator. Rushed pleas of mercy and empty apologies flew out the fallen man's mouth as the lean, tall captor stood over him. The tall man reached behind him to reveal an object from the back of his matching black suit and jacket. The faint glimmer of headlights from a passing automobile revealed the object to be a handgun. Time stood still in my world as the recent events coursed through my head. The fear of the large victim intensified, losing control of his body, his limbs started to shake vigorously. I gazed upwards to find the pursuer had grown a grand grin, a genuine smile of glee and great joy. That was when everything seemed to slow down. The tall man's grasp on the trigger grew tighter and tighter until the dark deed had been done. Blood danced through the air, disturbing images of beautiful flowers blossoming forth from the grey surface as they land ever so delicately on the pavement as to bid their owner one, final farewell.

Time had finally found its regular tempo, flowing at its own pace once again. After hearing the gunshot my limbs flinched, as if they were forcing themselves to awaken from their paralyzed state. Quickly standing up I took a step back, I looked from the lifeless corpse to the man standing proudly over it. The man of death gave his work a smirk. Holstering the firearm into a secure position inside his jacket, his eyes darted over in my direction, his face slowly turning itself so that it faced mine. "Well, it seems that I've had an audience witness my... _humble_ work of art" sarcasm filled his voice like venom. The tall figure started to walk; steady and carefully placed steps, slowly approaching me. His black hair covering his eyes; a small breeze blew into the silent night, carefully caressing the man's face, exposing his eyes to me. Blood red; like the sickly flowers that beautifully decorated the pavement. Fear struck me, and the will to live filled my body. Knowing that I could not overpower the man, I did the only thing I was good at... I ran.


End file.
